From Dreams to Reality
by pat4pat
Summary: Pickles has been inwardly fighting himself against his lustful thoughts towards Charles' niece. But will he succeed against temptation or will he fall into the clutches of his inmost desires?
1. Good Morning Pickles

**I don't own Dethklok or Metalocalypse. Reviews are most welcomed as I'm completely new to writing fanfic. Thanks for reading! Enjoy!**

**Pat**

Pickles wasn't quite sure how he had gotten into this situation, but hell if he was going to complain. Right now he was staring down at the girl of his dreams. She was sprawled out on his bed, the rumpled sheets twisting in her grasp. Long, dark hair blended into the contours of Pickles' already dark, satin bed sheets. Hazel eyes were at half mast, looking up at Pickles through a haze of lust and desire. Pickles was resting on his knees, his fingertips clutching at her hips as he raised her to meet each thrust. Each inward and outward glide felt like hot silk to his throbbing member. As he pushed deep inside her, he watched as her breasts jiggled in circles. A droplet of sweat dripped down from her beaded nipples. He leaned forward while still thrusting and took her left nipple in his mouth. She moaned his name and grabbed onto a few of his dreadlocks as he sucked and licked her tender, salty skin. Arching her hips up higher, Pickles shoved deeper into her core. He brought his head back and clenched his eyes shut as he listened to the motion of their bodies and her moans of pleasure.

She was nearing release, his cock could sense it. Already below was a small wet stain on the sheets, proof of her oncoming release. It was a stain he never wanted to go away. Pickles opened his eyes to look down once more on his muse. Her eyes were now shut and her mouth was slightly open, panting his name. A wicked grin flickered over Pickles' face. Pride and possessiveness burned inside him, hearing her moan for him and only him. Her brows furrowed and she began to squirm under Pickles' hot touch. She grasped the sheets above her head firmly with her fingers, forcing her chest to protrude out. Pickles picked up the pace. Each powerful surge made a wet, slapping sound against their bodies. His cock throbbed at the sight of her breasts shaking with his heavy thrusts.

"Pickles…" she panted, "I think. I'm going. To…" She suddenly screamed his name loud as her soft pussy clenched around Pickles' throbbing cock. Her back arched up from the pleasure. Pickles hissed and held onto her hips tight as she continued milking him, pulling him closer to his own release. He felt the added moisture seeping from her core, coating his thick cock. She was so tight, so heavenly tight. A bead of sweat from his brow dropped down onto the smooth skin of her stomach. His lusty gaze watched as it traveled towards the soft skin between her breasts.

"Oh baby," Pickles panted through each violent thrust. His sweet release into the most precious core he had ever had the pleasure to lay eyes upon was near. "Layla!" he screamed.

Pickles shot up in bed, coming back to reality with a jolt. _Oh God, another dream,_ he thought.

Pickles rubbed his eyes vigorously in frustration. He felt the wetness between his legs and hoped to all that was evil that it was merely the sweat pouring off of him. He checked. "Goddamnit."

It was 9 A.M. and Pickles was more than slightly pissed that he was already awake this early in the morning. He rested his head against the shower wall, letting the heat and steam billow around him, cleansing him from his most recent sins. That had been twice now this had happened, twice this week! Pickles cursed under his breath. He couldn't even add up anymore how many times he'd dreamed of Layla, his obsession, over the past few months. He only hoped that he hadn't shouted her name out loud. His band mates would have fun with that one.

Pickles turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. His red dreads were dripping down his back. Making his way to his dresser drawer, he pulled on his usual outfit, jeans and a sleeveless t-shirt. When his blue sweatbands were on each wrist, he laced up his shoes.

_There's nothing left to do about last night. Might as well go and eat,_ Pickles thought. If he tried to forget about Layla and what he'd like to do to her, maybe this whole problem would just go away. _Denial._ But then again, he wasn't sure if he wanted those thoughts and feelings to go away…

The rest of the band mates were still fast asleep, or passed out, from another late night of drugs, booze, and partying. Pickles made his way through a silent Mordhaus, a rarity, and came to the kitchen. He grabbed a packet of pop tarts from the cupboard and made his way towards the toaster.

And that's when it hit him. He could smell the shampoo from her hair and the lotion from her body. Her wonderful scent wafted towards him before she even entered the room. He froze and turned to face the kitchen doorway with wide eyes. His throat was dry and his palms were clammy from the anticipation. Memories from his most recent dream were racing through his head.

"Good morning, Pickles."


	2. Toast & Toki

**Obviously I don't own Dethklok or Metalocalypse…but I hope you enjoy my next chapter! Thanks for reading! Reviews are most welcomed!**

**Pat**

_Why is he just standing there staring at me like that? _Layla shifted uncomfortably under the drummer's stare. She forced a shy smile across her lips, lifting her eyes to meet Pickles' intense gaze. His green eyes seemed darker than usual, lost in intense thoughts.

To avoid any more seconds of awkwardness, Layla walked towards the fridge and pulled out a loaf of bread. She grabbed two pieces from the bag.

"Do you need to use the toaster first?" she asked Pickles.

He blinked a few times, still staring at her, and then regained composure.

"Ah, no. You go for it." He said in his yooper accent.

Layla gave another shy smile and tried to maneuver herself around the drummer to get to the toaster. Her scent wafted past his nostrils. She was so close to him. He contemplated about reaching out and touching her.

With shame, Pickles knew he would give anything to run his hands through the dark tresses of her long hair. He would stroke the smooth skin of her face with his hand, running his thumb across her full lips as her hazel eyes regarded him tenderly. He noticed how her t-shirt and jeans hugged the obvious womanly curves she possessed.

_She smells so damn good, _he thought, _What am I so afraid of? Just do it. Just touch her…No! _Pickles pulled his hand back, not even realizing that he had lifted his arm towards her body. _Oh shit, I gotta get outta here!_

Layla turned to talk with Pickles while she waited for the toaster, but he had already left. With a frown she rested against the counter.

It had already been a couple months since she moved into Mordhaus with Uncle Charles and Dethklok. Her father, Charles' only brother, and her mother had mysteriously gone missing. She just came home one day from school to find them gone without a trace. The police had no leads and were at a loss for their disappearance. There was nothing they could do to help her. The only remaining family she had left was her uncle. Charles had no choice but to take her in, unwilling as he was. But he had said she was at least safer here then out on her own. Well, what the hell did that mean? Her parent's disappearance was just an accident…right?

Layla fought back a couple tears from slipping down her cheeks. Where were they? Did they leave her? Or did something really bad happen to them?

At that moment, two pieces of toast went flying up in the air. One landed on the counter while the other plopped on the ground by her foot.

"Well, I wasn't that hungry anyway." Layla murmured to herself, bending down to pick up her lost piece of breakfast.

"Who is you talkings to?"

Layla looked up to see a smiling Toki.

"Oh, just myself." Layla laughed, recomposing herself quickly, "Good morning, Toki!"

"Good morning, Layla! Hows you sleep last night?"

"Good, thanks." Layla smiled. _At least someone has the decency to answer me._

Layla pushed her previous thoughts from her mind and sat down at the table, munching on her piece of toast. She watched Toki walk around the kitchen looking for various items for his morning meal.

Toki began to ramble about last night's festivities to Layla, but she was already lost in her thoughts yet again.

Everyone was so nice to her, well, as nice as she assumed they could be. When she first came to Mordhaus she was so shy and scared of Dethklok. With the recent disappearance of her parents, she felt so flustered being thrown into a household, if you could call Mordhaus a simple house, with a bunch of men and their servants. Hell, she was still naturally timid around everyone, even her uncle. But as the months went by, she learned each of the band member's different personalities.

Nathan looked huge and scary, but in reality, he was just a big, dumb teddy bear. And William could be horribly crude, but she just did her best to avoid him. Skwisgaar was the one her uncle Charles was the most worried about. He was a complete womanizer and would screw anything so long as it was a female. But Charles had a long, perhaps threatening, talk with Skwisgaar the day after Layla moved in. Toki was by far her favorite person in the house. He was sweet and childish, but he was always nothing but kind to her.

Toki tried his hardest to bring up Layla's spirits. The first few months would've been absolute hell had it not been for Toki. He held her up through a world of penetrating darkness, swarming around her.

The few rare worries Charles held towards Layla was to keep her safe, in all senses, against Dethklok. Hence, Layla wasn't allowed into any of the band members rooms. But after much pleading and prodding by Toki towards Charles, Layla could at least freely hang out with Toki. He would show her his plane models and other various items he had created. He had even let her paint a few of his finished models. Though it took her awhile to even begin to remotely understand what he was saying to her in his broken English, she enjoyed her time spent with Toki.

Toki was sweet and becoming a dear friend to Layla, but it wasn't his childish demeanor that she wanted. Layla couldn't understand why, but she always felt a strange tug towards Pickles.

She remembered the first day she ever met him. Uncle Charles had brought her into their game room. She was so nervous; her heart was beating up in her throat. She remembered trying not to cry in front of Dethklok; she was trying to be as brave as possible, given her situation

"Gentlemen, please!" Charles had said, pushing the band members back. They had crowded around the shy girl, curious to see who their new roommate would be.

Each said their hellos and totally disregarded Charles as he explained about Layla's circumstances. Layla desperately tried to tune out her uncle's voice from her ears. His reminder of why she had come to live at Mordhaus was not something she wanted to rehear again. Instead she distracted herself by surveying the room. There were games of all sorts, a huge television screen, a computer, and a hot tub. And that's when Pickles had caught her eye. He had stood back a little from the rest of the group. He was medium height with fair skin and a very slight beer belly. He had long, red dreadlocks, a goatee with sideburns, and both eyebrows pierced twice.

She looked up towards his face and their eyes met. Green eyes regarded her with equal curiosity. Something sparked inside of Layla's chest, but she could not pinpoint the feeling. It seemed as though minutes had passed as they gazed into each other's eyes, but Pickles had quickly turned away with a scowl. It looked as though something had upset him. Layla looked back down at the floor, slightly hurt. But she had never met the man before, why did it matter if he liked her or not?

Well, it didn't matter anymore what Pickles thought of her. He had rarely spoken to her at all since she moved in. When they were in a room together, she could feel his gaze on her; but he always tried his best to avoid her. What did she ever do to him? Nothing that she could recall. Well then, what was his problem? Layla reminded herself that it didn't matter anymore what Pickles thought of her. After tomorrow, no one would ever have to worry about running into pitiable Layla again…

"Are you listenings?" Toki exclaimed.

Jumping in her chair, Layla snapped herself back to reality and forced a smile at Toki.

"Sorry, yes."

"Wells, then, whats do you thinks?"

"What do I think about what?"

Toki frowned at Layla's lack of attention, "Joining us next times we has a party!"

"Oh…" Layla looked down at her toast. "I don't think Uncle Charles would be a big fan of that." _Besides, I won't be around for the next one…_

Layla looked back up at her Norwegian friend. She couldn't help but smile back at his cheerful demeanor. She'd miss him.

Better off safe to play along. "Toki, I'm only 17. I'm pretty sure Uncle Charles will be against me drinking."

"You don't has to drinks! Just comes out and hangs with Toki. And in a couple weeks, you be 18! Thens you an adult and can do whatevers you likes!"

Layla laughed, "I'll be an adult but I still can't legally drink. Besides, there's no way Uncle Charles will let me hang out while you all party. He says you're all too dangerous for me."

Toki's smile faded from his face, "Evens Toki?"

"No, no! Not you Toki! Just, the other guys."

Layla sighed. Toki was now looking down with a sad frown on his face. She couldn't let their friendship end this way.

"Hey, how 'bout we work on that one plane of yours today?" Layla said, "We haven't had a chance to hang out in awhile. Just you and me."_ My last day._

A new smile spread across Toki's face. He shot up from the table and grabbed Layla by the hand, leading her out the door.

"Okays, let's go!" he exclaimed.

"But Toki, the dishes…" Layla didn't even bother to finish her sentence as she was pulled by the hand towards Toki's room.

They were just around the corner, almost to Toki's room, when they bumped into Pickles.

"Oh hi, Pickle!" Toki said happily.

"Hey Toki. Where ya goin'?" Pickles asked with a strong accent.

"Layla and me are goings to work on my planes!"

Pickles tensed a bit as he suddenly noticed Layla behind Toki. He was such an idiot in the kitchen, fumbling for words then running away like a coward. But he just couldn't trust himself around Layla alone. Christ, he had nearly grabbed at the poor girl. She was shy and sensitive enough as it was. The last thing she needed was an older guy taking advantage of her. He felt like a dirty prick.

"Hi Pickles." Layla smiled shyly. _Remember his face. This is the last time…_

"Hey" Pickles responded quietly. Layla's eyes were scanning his face, as if she were taking mental pictures of his image. Pickles was now the one shifting uncomfortably under her gaze.

He looked down and noticed her hand still grasped in Toki's. Pickles felt his blood beginning to boil. _I got no goddamn reason to feel this way. They're just friends. They hang out all the time,_ he thought.

"I'm goings to ask Charles if Layla can hangs out with us next time we has a party." Toki brought Pickles back from his dark thoughts.

"Oh, ah, I don't know if that's a good idea, Toki."

Pickles stole another glance towards Layla. She was now looking down at her feet, fidgeting with her jean pocket. The last thing Pickles wanted was to be drunk with his defenses down around Layla. God knew if he'd let his primal urges go in his weakest state of mind.

"You ares a party pooper." Toki frowned at Pickles.

"Well, whatever." Pickles mumbled, "I'm gonna go lay down for a bit."

Pickles turned on his heel and walked towards his room; he didn't risk taking one more glance towards the beautiful creature that haunted his dreams. He could hear Toki's broken English as he continued to ramble at Layla.

As he walked towards his room, Pickles wondered what Layla's hands felt like to touch. They would be small and soft against his calloused hands. He could almost feel their gentle glide down his naked torso and around his bare back as she would clutch on to him for support.

"Jesus Christ, support for what?" Pickles asked himself as he slammed his bedroom door shut behind him.

Frustrated, he plopped himself on his bed, looking up at the ceiling. Pickles scowled as his dirty mind raced with thoughts of what he'd like Layla's soft hands to do to his body. If he was too high strung to sleep, then maybe he could use a helper. Pickles reached under his bed and grabbed the first bottle he felt.

"Vodka." He smirked to himself, "That'll do the trick."

He downed what was left of the bottle quickly. In a drunken state, Pickles began to relax against the soft comforter and pillow beneath him. The empty vodka bottle slipped from his fingers and clanked onto the ground. Before his eyes shut and he surrendered to an alcohol induced sleep, he guiltily hoped that a repeat of last night's dream would be in store for him. If not, at least the future held chances for him to glimpse his beautiful Layla one more time.


	3. Mourning Mornings

Monday morning, 7 A.M. Layla reached out from under her covers to silence the screech of her alarm clock. Five days a week, she had an inward struggle with herself about getting up and facing the day. High school was truly a bitch, if she might say so herself. But she wasn't really going to high school. No, today everything would change.

The steam from the shower felt good on her skin, helping her wake up. She took her bar of soap and lathered up her sponge with it. She ran it over her body, scrubbing vigorously. Layla had a fleeting thought of what it would feel like to have a man close behind her, scrubbing her body for her. His muscular arms would envelope her small frame. His face buried in her neck as his fingertips explored her sensitive skin. A faint smile crept along her lips as his red goatee tickled her neck.

Suddenly the sponge slipped from her hands and landed on the shower floor. She was slightly alarmed by her train of thoughts. _What the hell is wrong with me?_

She tried to dismiss the fantasy and turned off the shower and stepped out. She used her towel to wipe away a small circle from the steam on the mirror.

Layla never thought she was anything special. She was medium height with hazel eyes and long, dark hair. Though she was not at all fat, her hips and curves were something she still had to come to terms with. Layla had always been a shy girl, very naïve to the opposite sex and sex in general. Hence, the way her jeans hugged her curves and her shirts accentuated her bust made her uncomfortable in her own skin.

Layla quickly brushed through her tangled hair; there was no time to blow-dry it today.

Dressing hastily, Layla grabbed her book bag. She doubled checked its contents as she would never be returning to her room. The items were scarce but it was all she could take with her in her book bag so as to not look suspicious. She headed towards Mordhaus' version of a garage walking quietly through the dark hallways. The fastest way was always past Dethklok's rooms. She silently prayed that they all had shut their doors last night.

Layla had once accidently peeked in on Skwisgaar's room. She shuddered, remembering the odd interactions she witnessed between the lanky, blonde Swede, an elderly woman old enough to be his grandmother, and a young Asian girl. She had gasped as all three turned to stare at her, squeaked her apologies and ran the rest of the way down the hallway. Later, when she had returned from school, Skwisgaar had teased her about it, enjoying as her face turned beat red. He loved teasing her, reminding her of her lack of knowledge about the opposite sex.

Thankfully though, his door was shut tight. She hurried by.

Layla was almost at the end of the hall when she heard bottles clanking together. She paid no heed to it and was about to pass Pickles' door when she thought she heard him faintly call out her name. Layla stopped dead in her tracks. Her heart had slightly fluttered at the thought of her name leaving his lips.

His door was slightly ajar. She tiptoed over to it, listening. After some silence, she readjusted her book bag and was about to continue onward. She was probably just hearing things. Pickles never wanted anything to do with her, rarely spoke with her. Layla was pretty positive that he greatly disliked her company and presence in Mordhaus. At first she was a little hurt by his callousness, but she just accepted that they would never get along.

"Mmm, Layla…" she heard Pickles murmur again.

This time she was positive she heard her name being called by him. Slowly pushing the door open, Layla peeked from behind the door into the dim room. She stopped short when she saw Pickles lying on his side, his back towards her. He was clad only in his white underwear. _I shouldn't be seeing this…I should leave,_ she thought. Pickles was clearly still fast asleep. Layla did not want to disturb the slumbering drummer.

But he caught her eyes when he shuffled again. A couple more bottles slipped from his bed and onto the floor. He was now on his back, his body sprawled out. And something long and large was stretching out from beneath his underwear. Layla's breath caught in her throat; her heart began to pound in her chest. She could feel the blood rushing to her face. But she couldn't tear her eyes away from Pickle's large member stretching at the white cotton.

_Oh my God,_ she thought,_ Is he…is he dreaming about me?_

Layla continued to stare in awe, not sure what to do. She knew men were obviously made differently than women; however, she was so inexperienced with what she saw, unsure of how to handle the situation she had gotten herself into.

She was becoming a little curious.

A small twinge of guilt prodded at her from the back of her mind as she watched Pickles. She knew she should just turn around and go, but a faint tingling between her legs made her want to stay and watch.

"Layla." She heard a firm voice call to her.

She nearly jumped out of her skin and whipped around to see her uncle rounding the corner. Layla backed away from Pickle's door immediately. She felt guilty, like she had been caught red handed.

Charles looked up and noticed Layla standing awkwardly against the wall. She met his eyes but quickly looked back down.

He wasn't sure why she seemed so flustered. Her cheeks were rosy and her breath was heavy. He disregarded this immediately. Layla was always the shy one, even around family.

"I'm glad I caught you before you left for school. Come, I have something to discuss with you."

Charles took Layla by her arm, leading her down the hall to where a limo was waiting for her. Usually morning rides were very quiet and lonely. The klokateers were never very sociable, so she would sit in the back, dreading every moment she got closer and closer to her high school. But this morning, Charles followed her into the back of the limousine. Layla gulped, hoping his presence wouldn't interfere with her plans.

"To the school first." He sternly ordered the klokateer.

Charles then turned to Layla. "I've had some unexpected business come up recently. I'll be leaving today right after you are dropped off."

"You're leaving?" Layla asked. This _was_ unexpected, but maybe it would work to her advantage.

"It hopefully won't be for too long, but I cannot make any promises. As you know, I hate to leave you alone, but all your needs will still be taken care of as they have been."

Layla's uncle was always so matter of fact. She sometimes wondered if he would ever truly care about her, or at least act like he did. It wasn't her he was worried about leaving, it was his precious band, Dethklok. Layla simply nodded and turned to look out the window for the rest of the drive. Her uncle's callous words solidified why she needed to leave.

"We're here, Sir." The klokateer called into the backseat.

"Yes, very good." Charles readjusted his glasses.

Layla didn't say a word to her uncle as she grabbed her bag and opened the door. _This is it._

"Layla." Charles suddenly said, making Layla turn back to look at him. He was looking at her intently, like a stern, concerned father would look at his daughter. Layla's heart tugged at her chest at how much Uncle Charles resembled her father at that moment.

"Please…be careful." His concerned look soon left his face and the normal, business-like man resurfaced.

Layla gave her uncle a faint smile and got out of the limo. It sped off as she walked towards her school. Layla tried to forget her uncles' resemblance to her father; she could not cry, not now. The time for her tears and sorrow had passed; a new beginning began here and now.

She instead breathed a sigh of relief. Her uncle seemed oblivious to any plans she had made for today. That was plus.

_I don't think he knew what I saw. Thank God!_ Sex education was a topic she hated discussing. Biology class was her most feared subject. Layla didn't think she could ever talk openly or comfortably about it, especially with her uncle. The scene from earlier in the morning passed through her thoughts again. But her curiousness soon turned to guilt. _Maybe I had purposely looked into his room, just to see him one last time._ As much as Layla wanted to accept the fact that Pickles might never like her, she sometimes wished for his attention. These thoughts and feelings were so foreign to her; she could never discuss them with anyone. She just did not understand what she was feeling. A crush? _Why would I be crushing on a man who doesn't even take the time of day for me?_

The limo had long since vanished down the street. Layla could see other students were running late, rushing into the dismal building. But she stopped dead in her tracks. Readjusting her book bag across her other shoulder, Layla turned on her heel and headed away from the school. Her new life began today. She had promised herself that she would forget about her parents' disappearance, her Uncle Charles' inability to care for her, and especially Dethklok. But as she continued walking down the sidewalk, away from the past, a thought trickled into her mind. She did not dare think his name as she re-imagined the red-headed man that had touched her so gently in the shower.

* * *

Pickles' hangover headache was forcing him to wake up from the pain. He slowly opened his eyes, trying to adjust to the darkness around him. There was a faint light coming from his doorway. Through a slight haze, Pickles thought he saw Layla watching him with a curious gaze. She looked like a Madonna, her dark hair haloed by the light behind her.

"Layla. I'm glad I caught you before you left for school. Come, I have something to discuss with you."

Pickles shot straight up in his bed as he heard Layla quickly shuffle away from his room. With wide eyes and a racing pulse he listened to Charles' voice. Fuck, that really had been Layla in his doorway. Didn't he shut his door last night? He knew she walked through that hallway five mornings a week.

Had he been talking in his sleep? Did he call out her name? He looked down, now noticing his morning wood.

"Ah, son of a -" Pickles grabbed his face in annoyance and utter embarrassment. _She had to have seen. I said her name and she saw. Shit, will she tell anyone? Does she know my secret now?_

In frustration, he grabbed his blankets and threw them over his erect member, not wanting to face it.

Laying back down, Pickles concentrated on slowing his breathing. His heart rate seemed rather erratic. He didn't want to have to use his puffer.

His erection was still swollen, yearning for some sort of release. That familiar feeling was something not even the blankets could hide. Pickles looked over at the door, making sure no one was watching. He cringed, knowing good and well what he was about to do._ Maybe I just need a good wank._ Though it couldn't reverse what had just happened, it could at least relax him at the current moment.

Guiltily, his hand slipped beneath the blankets and underneath the band of his underwear, grasping his cock firmly. It twitched slightly in his strong hold. Pickles closed his eyes and began a smooth rhythm, gliding his hand up and down along his shaft. It wasn't soon until his imagination felt a soft grasp on him now. It was a small hand with smooth skin, gripping him firmly as it proceeded with the rhythm he had started before. He opened his eyes at half mast, staring down his body. Pickles could make out a girl by his legs. Her dark hair was pulled halfway back, revealing a smooth face. Beautiful hazel eyes looked up at him.

"Heys!" Toki exclaimed as he burst through the door, "Guess whats!"

Pickles yanked his hand away from between his legs and sat up straight. He grabbed all the blankets he could surrounding him, re-piling them over his erect shaft.

With wide eyes, Pickles angrily regarded the guitarist, "Dude! What the hell? It's 8 in the fucking morning!"

"Ohs, I sorry I wakes you." Toki halfheartedly said, "But guess whats?"

Toki waited a moment for Pickles to respond, but all that came was a dark glare from the drummer.

"Charles left a note sayings he has to leave for a bit. So nows we has the whole place to ourselves."

Pickles pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, "Toki. We're not little kids, we always had the run of the place. Charles doesn't always tell us what to do, you know."

Toki was still smiling, "Wells, now we can has another party and invite Layla!"

"Toki, I really don't think that's a good…" Toki had already left his room, darting down the hallway to Nathan's bedroom.

If there was a God, he was being a real dick lately. Pickles knew he couldn't avoid being dragged into some party, Layla there or not. The guys would wonder what was up with the drummer if he failed to show. Pickles wished he could just play it cool like Skwisgaar. Then he could at least enjoy her company, getting his fix by casual conversation, listening to and watching her with no fear of losing his self control.

When Toki wanted something to happen, he was usually very adamant about it. Therefore, it always happened. So at this so called party that would eventually come to pass, Pickles would just drink or get high or both until he completely blacked out. That seemed like the logical solution.

But one thing was for sure. He really needed to start shutting his door at night.

**Hope you all enjoyed this next chapter! I promise good stuff is on its way ;)**

**Special thanks to queerdoe, LambchopMagee, and CharmingBerry1187! Your reviews help me to continue with this story!**


	4. Raindrops & Promises

"Cut! Cut!" Dick Knubbler yelled into the microphone.

The band all groaned in unison as Knubbler rambled on about how horrible the takes were.

"I wish hes stop complainings about our recording. We has album come out soons." Skwisgaar said.

"Yeah! We're playing fine!" Murderface added with his harsh speech impediment, "It's that dick's fault that keeps stopping us in the middle of a recording!"

"Guys, the two way mic is on." Knubbler said disapprovingly.

"Ah…Dick! I was just saying your name! Not calling you a dick, no, ah…" Murderface fumbled with his words.

"There ya go." Nathan chimed in, "Thinking about dicks again."

Before Murderface could respond, Knubbler interrupted. "Hey, guys, this just came up. Sounds important. So your manager has a message you need to listen to. Guys?"

"Ya, what? Whatever. Put him on." Nathan grumbled.

Charles Ofdensen's stern face appeared on a large screen before the recording studio.

"Gentlemen, some very disturbing news has just recently come to my attention."

"Whatever it was, we didn't do it. We've been stuck in the recording studio all day. Recording. Stuff." Nathan said.

"Yas, we has not has a chance to do anythings." Skwisgaar added.

"This has nothing to do with you." Charles barked. The five members all stopped their fidgeting and gave their full attention to their manager. Something must've been wrong to make him lose his temper with them.

"Layla never came home from high school today. The klokateer ordered to pick her up at 3 P.M. said she didn't show. He waited for four hours. Since then I've had every available man on duty, searching the whole city for her. It's been nine hours; they've all come up empty handed. Now I need you all to remember if you noticed anything suspicious lately. Did she say something? Did she seem different at all?"

"Nos, she just the shy girls she always is. Rarely talks to us or anythings. So unsociables." Skwisgaar muttered.

Nathan and Murderface nodded in agreement.

"Comes on you guys, she is just shy. We gots to help finds her!" Toki exclaimed. He had already set his guitar down on the stand.

Charles continued, "If she's not found immediately, I'm going to have to inform the police. I want you all to be careful out there searching for her. It's still unclear as to why she disappeared. Notify me immediately when she is found." The screen went blank.

"Oh jeeze, now we're stuck running around the city like chickens with our heads cut off!" Murderface was not happy about the command from his manager.

"The sooner she's found, the sooner we can get back to recording." Knubbler's voice echoed through the studio.

Nathan, Skwisgaar, and Murderface slowly sauntered out of the studio, heading to the garage. Toki, in a frantic state, quickly ran to his room to grab his jacket before leaving to find his best friend. He threw his jacket on in a hurry and ran down the hallway. Halfway there, he bumped into Pickles. He was standing just outside his doorway. Lost in thought, there was a solemn grimace on his face.

"Comes on Pickle, we gotta hurry!" Toki exclaimed, waiting for Pickles to follow behind him.

Pickles didn't respond. He remained rooted to the spot, as if he hadn't heard a word Toki had said.

"Pickle?" Toki placed his hand on the drummer's shoulder. Pickles jumped and turned to face the guitarist.

"Huh? Oh ya. I just…" Pickles rubbed at his face in confusion, "I dunno, Toki…"

"You don'ts know? Don'ts know what? If you are goings to help look for Layla or not? She's my best friends, and she's out there right nows, probably scared and lonelys!" Toki screamed.

Pickles had never seen Toki so upset before. It was rather frightening. "You're right. I'm sorry, Toki. That was selfish of me. Lemme just grab my jacket real quick."

Toki was right. _What the hell was wrong with me back there?_ Of course he felt a little scared at the thought that someone had stolen Layla. _Get your ass out there and go find her, ya douchebag!_

By the time Toki and Pickles arrived at the garage, Nathan and Skwisgaar had already taken the five-seater motorcycle while Murderface had driven off in his car.

"I'll takes this car, Pickle. We alls got our phone so we knows if someone finds her."

"Dude, you don't have your license, though."

"423s will drives me." Toki hopped into the passenger seat while 423 started the car's engine.

After it sped away, Pickles mounted his motorcycle. He turned the key and revved the engine. A trail of smoke billowed behind him as he tore off into the night. It was already well past midnight. Pickles was glad he grabbed his jacket as the chilly night air bit at his face.

_Who the hell would take her?_ Pickles wondered if this had anything to do with her parents' disappearance. But what if she had run away instead? He couldn't imagine the shy and timid girl going through with such a dangerous plan. She wouldn't last a minute out on those streets. He knew. He'd been there once before. After his father's disownment, Pickles jumped from house to house, living with anyone who would take him in. Eventually when that scene grew old, he took the first train out of Wisconsin and towards his new life.

_The train station! _The thought suddenly dawned on Pickles. He was certain the klokateers had already checked there, but to him it seemed the only logical spot she would be if she had indeed run away.

Pickles hoped he was right as made a sharp U-turn, now racing towards the train station. If he _was_ right, he just anticipated that whatever train she was thinking of boarding hadn't left yet. Being past midnight, her chances of still being there were highly unlikely. The train station had long since closed. A few droplets from the night sky were already pelting at his face.

By the time Pickles reached the station, there was a torrential downpour. He didn't bother to park his bike, pulling right on the curb. His wet dreadlocks were matted against his neck and scalp as he ran down the platforms. The faint lights from the overhang illuminated only empty benches lined along the wall. Pickles slowed down and finally stopped to catch his breath. He bowed his wet head and rested his hands on his thighs as he gasped for air.

_If she was here, I was too late. That whole time we were dicking around in the studio, she was here. By herself. And I was too late._

Pickles cursed loudly, tugging hard on his dreadlocks. The pain caused his eyes to water. He didn't bring his hand up to wipe the tears of frustration away. He was already wet, why did it matter?

At that moment, Pickles thought he heard a faint whimper. He let go of his hair, his rage turning to hope as his ears strained to hear the sound again. Pickles heard a sharp intake of breath; it was coming from the end of the platform. His heart pounded in his chest, his throat dry as he bolted the rest of the way down the platform. Past the last bench, where the glow from the overhang lights didn't reach, was a small figure huddled on the ground against the station's wall.

"Please. Don't hurt me." a faint sob left her lips.

"Layla?" Pickles said with concern, kneeling down beside the huddled figure. He was still panting, his heart racing, just to see her face.

Sad, hazel eyes looked up towards Pickles' own. Layla was shivering violently, clutching onto her bare arms, trying to warm herself.

"Jesus, here!" Pickles quickly removed his jacket and wrapped it around Layla's shoulders. She clutched at the fabric, still warm from his body heat. It was slightly damp, but it was comforting against the cold.

"Are you alright? Where's your jacket? It's fucking freezing in this weather!"

"Two guys came and stole my book bag and ticket. They had a knife; I didn't know what else to do." Layla's teeth chattered with each word, tears beginning to well in the corners of her eyes.

"You're lucky that's all they did." Pickles regarded her with stern, green eyes, "But why did you run away? Christ, Ofdensen thought someone snatched you!"

Layla turned away from Pickles' face. She had never been so close to him before. "Why wouldn't I run away? I hate it there in Mordhaus. Uncle Charles could care less if I disappeared or not."

"Layla, come on. That's not true. He had all of us out looking for you."

"It is true. He doesn't care about me. He just cares about Dethklok. If he did care, he'd be out there instead of you guys looking for me himself." Layla snapped, "Did you know I still don't actually have a real bedroom? No, he just keeps moving me from room to random room. I'm just an inconvenience for him. I'm an inconvenience for everyone there. I'm never going back. Just leave me alone. Please."

Pickles placed his hand on the back of his neck, a nervous gesture. Maybe Ofdensen was somewhat insensitive with her. "But Layla, I mean, you should've seen Toki's face the moment Ofdensen said you'd disappeared. That kid would do anything for ya, he's like your best friend."

"Ya, one person cares about me." Layla snorted. Her eyes met Pickles' again. "But no one else does. Not even you."

Her last words stung and took Pickles by surprise. All along he was just ignoring and avoiding her for her own protection, he thought. But he hadn't realized how tormented she felt inside. Pickles felt like the mother of all douchebags at that moment.

"Layla…" Pickles began, "It's not that I don't like you…"

"Then what? What did I ever do to you to make you hate me so much?" a few tears slipped down Layla's cheeks.

"I don't hate you, I promise! I just thought you'd be better off if I just ignored you, ya know? I didn't realize how much I was hurtin' ya."

Layla was now sobbing, her face buried in her knees. Pickles' heart sank watching such a beautiful girl in so much pain. Without thinking, Pickles reached out and cupped Layla's chin in his hand. Her breath caught short as he raised her face to meet his gaze. With his other hand, he took his thumb and wiped away any remaining tears on her cheeks. They remained like that for a few moments, her eyes regarding him with caution. The rain falling from the night sky around the train station's overhang sounded like a hypnotic, rhythmic white noise, entrancing the two. Suddenly realizing that his hand was still cupping her face, Pickles quickly withdrew his hand and cleared his throat.

Pickles still held Layla's gaze. "Come back with me. We'll sort all this out. It'll be better, I promise."

"You can't promise that."

"I can." Pickles stood up, reaching his hand down towards Layla. "And I promise to start being nicer to ya. Things will be different from now on."

Pickles stood, waiting and watching for Layla to take his hand. She looked up at him for a few moments. Pickles gave her a reassuring smile. Layla took his hand and was hoisted up on her feet. He was still gazing into her eyes, holding her hand. Layla shifted his jacket on her shoulders with her free hand. This seemed to have snapped Pickles back into reality as he quickly let go of her hand and stepped back.

"You might wanna button that up tight. We gotta rough ride home."

Pickles sped down the slick roads as fast as he dared. The heavy rain was forcing him to squint at the road ahead of him. But he had precious cargo on this night ride home. Had it not been for the dangerous conditions the roads were in, Pickles would've fully relished the feel of Layla's arms wrapped around his body. The feel of her fingertips digging into his chest helped distract him from the cold that was hitting his body. Her head rested against his back, he could feel her chest pushing up against him. _Concentrate._

When Pickles rolled into the garage, it was already 3 in the morning. The protection from the rain outside the garage door was heavenly, though it was still as cold as fuck.

"You need to dry off quick so you don't catch a cold."

A klokateer took Pickles' bike as he assisted Layla off of it, his fingers lingering along her waist before he let go of her. Another klokateer handed Pickles a towel which he immediately wrapped around Layla's shoulders. They hurried inside of Mordhaus. The warmth of the fortress shocked Layla a little, her legs buckling beneath her weight.

"Whoa, easy. Are you ok?" Pickles grabbed Layla by her arm, steadying her.

"Yes." She replied faintly, "Just-so cold."

Pickles contemplated a very nonmetal thing at that moment. Judging by the garage, the other guys weren't back yet, so maybe he'd be ok.

"May I?" he raised his eyebrows at Layla, waiting for her reply.

She felt his arm circle around her back and his other hand ready to lift her up by the back of her knees. Shivering, Layla was too cold to blush or even contemplate on what Pickles was about to do. She simply nodded. With his other hand, Pickles brought Layla up close to his chest and carried her the rest of the way to her bedroom. Her free arm clung to the wet fabric of his shirt as she buried her face in his neck. Pickles knew it was probably on instinct, trying to seek warmth from another body, but hell! He liked the feeling of her hand on his chest, fisting his shirt. Her breath was weak against his throat, but its warmth tickled against his sensitive skin. _Very nonmetal._

A klokateer was waiting by Layla's door when Pickles arrived. He opened it, allowing for Pickles to enter, stepping in sideways so Layla's feet wouldn't bang against the doorframe. Pickles set Layla down gently on the edge of her bead. Both of their hair and clothes were still dripping wet. He felt an odd sensation as he released his hold on Layla, almost incomplete, no longer having contact with Layla's body, but he resisted the urge to touch her any further. The klokateer walked into Layla's bathroom and returned with towels. Pickles removed the now soaking wet towel from around Layla's shoulders and threw it on the floor. Another klokateer set some dry clothes on a chair beside the bed for Layla to change into.

"Right, well, I'll give you some privacy. Just make sure you're completely dry; can't have you getting sick on us now." Pickles gave a nervous laugh. "I better go call the guys and let 'em know I found ya." Pickles turned on his heel and walked towards the door.

"Pickles?" Layla called to him. Pickles stopped to turn and look back at Layla. She gave him a small smile. "Thank you."

Pickles returned her smile and simply nodded. He left her bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Yes, starting tomorrow, things would be different.

**Please review, having a hard time with this story but I think it just might all fall into place soon. Thanks!**


	5. Kisses in the Dark

**A special thanks to the1andonlyofo! A wonderful beta reader and fellow author who helped me out tons!**

**As always, I don't own Dethklok or Metalocalypse. Enjoy!**

**Pat**

The morning light reached through Layla's window, bathing her in its warm glow. She shifted slightly underneath the thick, heavy blankets that coated her. Slowly her eyes opened and she became aware of the world around her. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Layla sat up and rested against her headboard. _What happened last night…?_

She enjoyed the quiet around her for a few minutes before she heard a soft knock on her door. A moment later Toki peeked his head around it, "Are you feelings better today?"

Visions from the previous day fell onto Layla and weighted her down like boulders dragging her body deep into the abyss of the sea. _It hadn't been a dream. It was all real. This is all real. _Layla brought her knees up and rested her arms on them, holding her face as she began to sob.

"Oh Layla! I was so scareds!" Toki ran into Layla's bedroom, jumping onto her bed and sitting next to her. He reached over and enveloped her in his arms. Layla leaned into his embrace, now crying into his shoulder. She remembered the last person to comfort her like this, her mother.

"Shhhh, it's oks now. Toki will makes it all betters." Toki cooed softly in her ear. He ran his hand up and down her back in a soothing gesture.

They remained like that, Toki holding onto Layla as securely as she held onto him. Finally her sobs began to dwindle down to mere sniffling. Loosening her grip on the guitarist, she raised her head to look at Toki, his eyes filled with deep concern and compassion. Her tears had accentuated the blue usually lost within her hazel eyes. _Shes is so beautiful…Shes is perfect in my eyes,_ Toki thought. He brought his hand up to brush away a stray tear that had trickled down her cheek. Pickles' similar action from the previous evening ran through Layla's head as she abruptly turned her face away from Toki's touch.

"Could you hand me a tissue?" Layla asked, hoping she had not made the moment awkward.

Toki hadn't seemed to notice as he leaned over to grab a few tissues. Layla took them and turned her head again to blow her nose.

"Thanks Toki." Layla tossed her dirty tissues into the garbage can close to her bed.

"Toki is always heres for you! No matter what!" Toki smiled, "I was just so scareds I'd never ever sees you again, Layla. Your Toki's bestest friend."

Layla smiled softly, "You've been like a best friend to me, too, Toki. I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I just…" she took a deep breath, feeling odd sharing her feelings out loud to another human being. "I just had to escape. It feels like a prison in here. But it also feels like no one cares about me. Like I'm just in the way and it'd be better if I just weren't around."

"Layla!" Toki placed his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to meet his gaze head on, "You is not only my best friend, but I thinks of you like family. And Charles is your reals family. So yous has lots of family here in Mordhaus."

"I guess so…" Layla recalled Pickles' promise that things would be different for her now in Mordhaus. Was he telling her the truth last night?

After those two guys from the train station had threatened her and left her with nothing but the clothes on her back, Layla had felt helpless. All hope was lost; she couldn't return to Mordhaus, she had no place to go. She waited in the cold darkness of the night to see what misfortune would befall her next. But then a man had appeared before her, like a redeeming angel sent to show her what fate truly wanted to bestow upon her. She had never seen his green eyes so full of anxiety and alarm before, they sparkled like fire in the night. From that moment, through the ride home, and when he carried her to her bedroom, Layla resisted every urge to throw her arms around her rescuer for fear that she would never let go.

"Layla?"

Layla turned to look at Toki again, "Yes?"

His eyes searched her own as a frown spread across his face, "Never leaves us again, promise? Never leaves Toki."

Layla placed her hand on Toki's, "I promise."

By Layla's doorway, someone cleared their throat.

Layla and Toki looked over at Pickles who was standing awkwardly by her door. Layla quickly removed her hand from Toki's and tried to discreetly scoot away from him, giving them some distance as he was still plopped on her bed.

_Keep it cool man,_ Pickles thought to himself. Toki sitting so close and casual next to Layla, _in bed!,_ was causing a slight twinge of anger within the drummer. He tried to play it off as always, _They're just friends._ But the way Toki gazed at Layla made Pickles want to stab the guitarist's eyeballs out and toss them to the yard wolves.

"Could I, ah, have a moment?" Pickles shuffled slightly, looking back and forth from Toki to Layla.

"Of course." Layla stuttered. She turned to Toki, "I'll catch you later, Toki. Ok? I promise." She gave him a reassuring smile before he crawled off her bed, slightly disgruntled that their one-on-one time had been interrupted.

Toki ignored Pickles as he walked out of Layla's bedroom and down the hall.

Layla was now alone in her bedroom, still in bed wearing only pajamas, with Pickles still standing in her doorway.

She broke the silence first, "You can come in."

"Oh ya. Right." Pickles walked into her room and sat at the edge of her bed. He fidgeted with the sweatbands around his wrists. "It's good to see you're doing better. Just wanted to check up on ya, especially after last night…"

Just then Layla reached across the distance and wrapped her arms around Pickles. Trying her hardest to hold back anymore tears, Layla whispered, "Thank you, Pickles. Thank you so much."

Pickles was a little surprised but soon returned the hug, allowing Layla to lean into his body. His arms wrapped around her waist as Layla buried her face into his chest, her hands clinging onto the front of his shirt. She was breathing heavily, holding back any oncoming tears. Pickles lowered his face into her hair and closed his eyes, enjoying the feel as her soft tresses brushed against his cheek. _She wants my attention,_ he thought, grasping onto her securely,_ Maybe…maybe it's ok? No matter what happens, it'll be ok._ His fingers dug slightly into her sides forcing a small sound to leave Layla's lips.

Startled, Layla and Pickles quickly let go of each other as the phone beside Layla's bed began to ring with earnestness. With wide eyes, Layla was blushing severely. Pickles loved that flustered look on her face, but now was not the time to savor it. Layla reached over to see what name appeared on the phone's screen.

"Uncle Charles…" she whispered to herself.

"I, ah, better let you take that." Pickles said, slowly standing up. He was slightly irritated that their embrace had been interrupted, but he promised himself he'd find another way soon to feel her tiny frame within his arms. He no longer held on to the fear of frightening Layla with his affections. It was something they both craved, whether Layla was aware of that yet or not. Pickles had been around long enough to sense desire in another human being, and desire was a new emotion beginning to blossom within his young Layla.

"Right, ok…" Layla said to Pickles.

At Layla's doorway, Pickles turned back to face Layla, "We'll catch up later, k?"

A soft smile spread across Layla's lips before she answered the phone, "Ok…Hello?"

* * *

"Right there is fine. If I need it moved, I can have Uncle Charles call one of you back up here."

Layla couldn't help but grin the whole time she directed the klokateers with her items. Dresser there, bed here, no maybe here instead? After her incident over two weeks ago and after the long chat with her uncle, she was finally getting her own room to permanently stay in. The conversation had been awkward on both ends, but a small sort of understanding and agreement had been reached between the two. Uncle Charles was still gone on whatever mysterious business he had to attend to, but right now at this moment, Layla didn't care. She felt what she had been longing for for so long, contentment.

It took awhile to have the room dusted and prepared, but Layla had finally received her own personal bedroom. It was up the stairs from Dethklok's rooms, so naturally they all wandered in from time to time, curious as to what the commotion was all about.

Earlier in the day Murderface had wandered in to explore along with Nathan. As Murderface snickered at her seemingly girlish things, Nathan merely stood in the doorway, and in the way, dumbly looking around his surroundings. Soon they had gotten bored and left her to overseeing where the large furniture items would be placed.

"Careful!" Layla called out quickly to one klokateer as he bumped into her dresser. The klokateer turned to look at Layla who blushed in response to her new found voice. She grabbed the airplane that was placed on the dresser, holding it close to her chest. A gift from Toki, to welcome her into her new bedroom, her new life.

"This is largers than my room." A voice said from behind Layla.

Layla turned to see the tall Swede approaching her. As he walked he did not look at her, too busy scanning the gothic structure and design of Layla's bedroom.

"Well, it's not the largest one in Mordhaus." Layla shifted uncomfortably as Skwisgaar now towered over her. "I'm sure your room is bigger."

Skwisgaar finally looked down at the fidgety girl. Her gaze fell from him as he scanned her body from top to bottom. He wasn't one for the curvier types, usually preferring them on both ends of the extreme, fat and skinny. But Layla looked so appetizing at the moment, running her hand across one of Toki's airplanes in a nervous gesture.

"Wells, we could always finds out, now coulds we?" Skwisgaar took the airplane from Layla's hands and set it down on another dresser beside him. A seductive grin spread across his face as he watched Layla's cheeks begin to burn red, gazing up at him with unease. This strange girl was so innocent, and innocence was something Skwisgaar loved to toy with.

Before Skwisgaar had the chance to snake his arm around Layla's waist, a small figure bumped in between the two causing Skwisgaar to take a couple steps away from Layla. Pickles wrapped one arm around Skwisgaar's shoulders and the other around Layla's.

"Dude, it's startin' to look pretty good!" Pickles drawled out in his Wisconsin accent.

Skwisgaar, forced to hunch down from the smaller man's arm draped around his neck, shook Pickles off with displeasure. "I have seens betters."

"Awe, come on now Skwisgaar. You're just upset because Layla's room is starting to look more metal than yours."

Pickles winked at Layla who replied with a small smile. His arm was still draped around her shoulder, his hand clutching an unmarked bottle. She could feel the warmth from his body through his side and hip as they bumped against her own.

"I don't needs to compares my room to a girl's room. Especiallys when they has stupid, childish airplanes like that." Skwisgaar crossed his arms and jutted his chin to where Toki's toy airplane lay.

Pickles' grin widened, "Airplanes are manly, dude. At least, more manly than white furs and throw pillows."

"I ams manly!" Skwisgaar yelled, throwing his arms up in annoyance. He turned sharply on his heel and stomped out of Layla's bedroom.

Pickles removed his arm from around Layla and turned towards the retreating Swede, "Hey, come on. I was just messin' with ya." Skwisgaar was already long gone. "Oh well." Pickles turned back to Layla with a sheepish grin plastered on his face.

Layla couldn't help but laugh at his teasing antics. Since Pickles had found her at the train station, he had remained true to his word. Though they didn't talk often, he at least acknowledged her presence more. Layla was still somewhat shy and nervous around the drummer, but she was slowly becoming accustomed to his mannerisms and sense of humor. Layla found that she truly enjoyed his attention given to her.

"Almost forgot. I came up here to tell ya about tonight." Pickles took a swig from the unmarked bottle.

"What's tonight?"

"We're all having us a good ol party." Pickles said, "And since Ofdensen is still outta town, you gotta come! Besides, a little birdie told me that midnight is someone's birthday." Pickles wiggled his eyebrows at Layla.

"Um, well, I should probably finish putting my room together…I'm not sure if I can…" blushing slightly, Layla took a few steps away as if to busy herself with her bedroom, but Pickles reached out to grasp her hand in his, pulling her back towards him. From his tug, Layla stood a little closer to the drummer then she was before. His green eyes were glassy as he stared down at her. She could faintly smell the alcohol on his breath.

"I'd love for ya to be there, Layla." Pickles whispered as he took a step closer to Layla, brushing his hand through her hair. Layla shuddered at his touch. He was sure she hadn't realized how she leaned into the hand that gently tugged through her dark hair. A crooked grin spread across Pickles' lips as he continued, "And it'll be a good way for us to be able to hang out more. All of us to hang out more, I mean." Pickles quickly corrected himself.

He and Layla were becoming closer, just as she wanted and just as he had so eagerly agreed to, but he still kept a careful eye on himself. As much as he wanted to order the klokateers away at that moment, lock the door behind them, and get to know Layla in a whole new way, he had to pace himself. She was like a drug to him, a tantalizing drug that teased and coaxed him unknowingly. And for her innocence, that made it all the worse. Pickles felt a strange possessiveness over his new friend. He wanted to break down her walls and open her up to his fiery passion. And he wanted to be the one, the only one to caress her with the heat of his touch…

"I guess it'd be ok." Layla said to herself, bringing Pickles back from his thoughts, "What time does it start?"

* * *

Loud music poured out from Dethklok's game room. The chatter of voices and laughter floated towards Layla as she neared. Her heart was racing as she stood just outside the doorway that led into the crowded room. Nerves coiled around her gut like a snake squeezing its prey. But she resisted the urge to grasp at her stomach, twisting her shirt in anticipation, and took her first step into the clutches of drugs, booze, and sex.

Layla's eyes widened at the sight around her. There were girls, girls, and more girls…everywhere! Some were clad in bikinis while others might as well have been wearing bikinis, or nothing at all. Layla noticed where most flocked to, as Skwisgaar was perched on a chair in the corner of the room. She continued walking, noticing a few guys here and there. They looked her up and down, unsure of the purpose of her presence as she wore her reserved jeans and t-shirt. From the corner of her eye, Layla saw Pickles, Nathan, and Toki all sitting in the hot tub. They each clutched drinks in their hands as they talked and laughed. A few girls were beginning to fight over who would sit on Nathan's lap.

Pickles was the first to notice her. He waved his arm in the air, beckoning her over as his drink spilled out of his hand. Toki dodged the liquid content that splattered his way and turned to smile at Layla. Both had clearly been drinking for some time.

"Laylas!" Toki sputtered, "Tokis is so happy yous came!" A concerned frown spread across his face, "You can't comes in heres dressed like thats! Wheres is your swims suit?"

"I actually don't have a swimsuit." Layla felt stupid as she saw both Toki and Pickles' eyebrows rise with surprise.

Pickles turned to a girl who was passing behind him, "Hey sugar!" She stopped and sauntered over to the hot tub with a seductive smile. Layla felt a burning sensation in her chest seeing this woman approach Pickles like that. "Can you help hook my pal up over hear with some swim gear?" The woman was slightly annoyed, not hearing what she would've liked from the drummer. Layla's burning jealousy ceased slightly as the woman looked up at Layla with annoyance.

"Come with me." She spat, marching off towards the kitchen.

Layla stumbled, trying to catch up quickly, and found the woman in the kitchen. She rummaged through her purse until she yanked out a white bikini.

"Here." She threw it at Layla who fumbled to catch both pieces in her hands. Layla looked back up at the woman.

"What are you, stupid? Try it on!" the woman snapped at Layla as she retreated to the bathroom off the side of the kitchen. "And don't ruin it!" she yelled as Layla shut and locked the door behind her.

A few moments later Layla slowly opened the bathroom door, stepping out shyly. The woman regarded Layla with a surprised look for a moment then said, "Damn girl, you got a rockin' bod."

"Oh, um, thanks." Layla fidgeted with her arms, not sure whether she should let them hang by her side or cross them over her chest. The woman merely laughed and approached Layla, handing her a hair tie. "Here honey, tie that hair up. Don't want that mop too messed up now." The woman regarded Layla one last time before turning on her heel and exiting the kitchen. Layla watched in amazement as her ass swung in a perfect rhythm from side to side before following her out.

Pickles was getting antsy, scanning his surroundings for Layla. It was difficult to see straight in his drunken haze but he tried to remind himself nevertheless. _You're just friends. Try and keep your hands to yourself tonight. No touchy. Well, maybe a lil touchy…_

Laughing to himself, Pickles took a long swig from his bottle, downing it to the last drop. When he tilted his head back up, his jaw dropped as he looked up in front of him. Layla stood at the edge of the hot tub looking like a sex goddess sent from the sex heavens. A white bikini with gold accents clung to her voluptuous form like white on rice. Pickles had never realized how long and slender her legs were, how her waist was pinched in at just the right spot to accentuate her hips and…oh God, the white bikini top was definitely snug against her chest. Pickles suddenly realized he wasn't the only one staring as both Nathan and Toki gawked at Layla with awe and amazement in their eyes. Pickles felt bloodlust coursing through his veins as he glared at the other two men in the hot tub. He quickly jumped up and grabbed Layla by the hand, tugging her roughly into the hot bubbling water. He pulled her closer so that she was sitting next to him, her body hidden from any probing eyes.

Toki began to stutter, "Layla, you looks beau-" Pickles quickly cut him off much to Toki's dismay, "Hey Toki, how 'bout gettin' us all some more drinks." Toki, naturally submissive, reluctantly got out of the hot tub to obey the drummer's orders. "And some shots, too!" Pickles called after him.

Pickles turned back to look at Layla. He noticed how she had crossed her arms over her chest, clearly uncomfortable. She was looking around at the party, trying not to meet his eyes.

"Hey," Pickles took her arms away, "Don't be nervous now. You look great!" Layla looked at Pickles. She smiled sweetly at him, her cheeks a faint rose color. Pickles cupped her face in his hand, smiling back at Layla. Her hair had been tied up in a messy bun. Though Pickles had always favored her long hair hanging freely down her body, he couldn't deny how sultry she looked at that moment with her neck bared free to his sight and touch. He slowly ran his hand down from her cheek and softly across her neck. A wicked grin flashed across his face as he heard her breath hitch in her throat.

Toki appeared with a tray of drinks and shots. Pickles grabbed a few before Nathan and his entourage of sluts grabbed the rest. "Bottoms up!"

Before the sweet liquid touched Pickles lips, Layla whispered, "Pickles, I've never done this before. I don't know what to do…"

"Oh, ahh," Pickles' yooper accent drawled out, "Just, you know, put it to your lips and down it in one shot. That's why it's called that. A shot." He laughed slightly at his own description. "So cheers," he clanked his shot glass against Layla's, "And bottoms up!"

Layla's lack of experience was evident as the night quickly progressed. The liquor was hitting her fast and hard. She and Pickles had spent two hours in the hot tub just talking and laughing as they continued to drink. When they started to prune, they exited and proceeded to play one of the games lined against the wall, but not without Pickles getting a towel for Layla to wrap up in first. After an hour of that, they hopped back into the hot tub with a splash, laughing hysterically.

The party began to slowly dwindle down. Passed out bodies were strewn across the floor; the music had long since stopped. Skwisgaar disappeared into his bedroom along with the majority of girls still coherent enough to follow him there. Nathan also had taken a few girls back to his room while Murderface was only able to coax one girl into his bed for the night. Toki had tried to keep up with Pickles and Layla, feeling slightly left out, but eventually he too left for the night alone.

"I wonder what time it is." Layla slightly slurred. She was beginning to feel a dull ache in her head.

"I guess, I guess we should call it a night, huh?" Pickles slurred back. He stepped out of the hot tub, lending his hand to help Layla out as well.

He slung a wet arm around Layla as they stumbled out of the game room and into the dark hallway. Layla, trying to find her balance, wrapped her arm around Pickles' waist. She shivered slightly against the cold air that bit against her wet skin. They turned a corner, the next hallway darker than the one before. Layla could feel Pickles' grasp on her shoulder, kneading at her bare flesh. She wasn't sure why, but the memory of seeing Pickles laying in nothing but his underwear with his long member stretching at the white cotton unexpectedly passed through her head. Maybe it was the effects of the booze? _Why else am I thinking about this right now? _But Layla was feeling somewhat braver than her usual self. And that most recent thought was making her feel…aroused. _It must be the booze._

"Pickles, I…" Layla began. But before she could finish, Pickles grabbed her and pushed her up against the wall. Before Layla could form any coherent thought on what was occurring, Pickles grasped her by the back of her neck, tilting her head back to meet his lips. She could taste the booze as his tongue prodded at her closed lips, asking them for entry. Layla eagerly complied and soon Pickles thrust his tongue deep into her mouth. She felt his lips lift up slightly in a smirk as she moaned against his open mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck. Pickles leaned his body into Layla's. With his other hand, he reached around her waist, hugging her tightly to him. Layla could feel something hard pushing against her hip. A raw feeling of need was oozing between the two as they clutched onto each other, their wet lips and moans the only sounds audible in the dark and deserted hallway.

Pickles broke the kiss, looking down at Layla who was panting, trying to catch her breath. He wasn't sure if he was moving too fast or not, but at the moment he couldn't contain his lusty desire for the girl. He saw the hungry look in her eyes as she gazed up at him, clutching around his neck more firmly. The answer was clear to him when Layla took hold of one of his dreadlocks, tugging it gently in a playful manner.

He took a deep breath, prayed to the devil and whispered, "Wanna go back to my room?"

Those few agonizing moments before Layla responded were worth the wait when the words left her lips, "Sure."

**Hope the chapter wasn't too choppy. I wanted to cut to the chase on a lot of things and not dull and bore the audience with a 2 weeks span of dialogue. Good things are soon to come my readers, good things. :)**


	6. Just the Appetizer

**I don't own Dethklok or Metalocalypse. **

**Sorry for the long time since an update. Hope this chapter was worth the wait! Let me know what you all think! Thanks to everyone who's left a review, faved me, and all you followers out there! :)**

**Pat**

_Oh my God! Dude! This is finally gonna happen!_

Closing (and locking) his door, Pickles turned to see Layla sitting on his bed, her legs dangling from the edge. In the dim light of his room, he could see a drop of water travel from her long leg and cling with earnestness onto her toe until it splashed onto his floor. With eyes aflame, Pickles sauntered over to the bed and stood in front of Layla. She gazed up at him, her cheeks burning as red as his hair. But she didn't break eye contact with him, even when Pickles gently pushed against her shoulders, easing her back onto the bed. Pickles slowly crawled on top of her until his face and body were perfectly in line with hers. He straddled her, resting on his hands and knees so as not to place pressure on her body yet. A couple droplets of water came down from his dreads, landing on her lips. Balancing, he brought one hand to slowly brush away at her lips.

_I use to have wet dreams about you…jerked off to you. Now you're right in front of me._

Pickles' cock twitched as Layla brought her tongue out, brushing his fingers, to remove the last of the water droplets. He wanted her tongue to brush other areas of his body, exploring, tasting. _Not yet._ He had other plans for her first.

In Pickles' fashion, he was the first to break the silence. "You're fucking hot" he whispered.

Layla blushed and averted her eyes from his gaze. "No, I'm not. I'm so awkward."

"Babe," Pickles began, "You turn me on. See what you do to me?"

Pickles lowered his groin into Layla, rubbing his hard length against her damp skin. A slight gasp left Layla's lips as she brought herself to face Pickles once more. She could feel his heat beneath his swim suit, rubbing against her bare leg. Her hands clutched at his forearms, feeling his rushing pulse through his pronounced veins.

The tension straining against his swim wear seemed unbearable; the sweet torment of his cock was ruthless. Of course she was beautiful, couldn't she see the desire swirling within his eyes? The desire screaming through every pore on his body?

"Pickles…" Layla purred, waiting for him. He was in control, the teacher, and she was eagerly anticipating his next move.

He gently lowered the rest of his body onto hers and secured her lips with fiery passion. He took all her mouth offered, biting at her lips, thrusting his tongue against hers, smacking wetly against her mouth. They were plump and swollen from his aggressive advances, but she took all of it, relishing in the feel of his warmth above her. His hard member twitched and rubbed against her thigh, her breasts heaved upwards into his bare chest. Excitement and anticipation coursed through Layla's veins like fire, igniting new emotions within her.

She took a breath when Pickles' kisses advanced to her neck, sucking and licking. Closing her eyes, a faint smile crept across her lips as his facial hair tickled against her throat. She grasped onto one of his dreadlocks and tugged playfully, enjoying the attention given her.

Layla could hear Pickles chuckle into her neck, kissing lower and lower. He ran his hands up her sides and stopped just short beneath her breasts. Layla opened her eyes as Pickles ceased his pleasure on her throat and was now gazing down upon her breasts. She shifted uncomfortably, not sure why he had stopped.

Pickles' eyes met hers for only a moment before returning back to their original prize. Her nipples were hardening through the white fabric, straining against it as his groin strained against his own clothing. The water from the hot tub had made her top nearly sheer, revealing two pink buds. With his hands still holding Layla in place by her sides beneath her breasts, Pickles lowered his mouth to one nipple, gently taking it into his mouth through the wet fabric of her bathing suit. Layla moaned, arching her back and closing her eyes, as she felt Pickles' tongue flatten against her erect nipple. She clutched onto his back as his tongue slowly swirled in circles around her sensitive bud.

His heart raced and his fingers gripped into her sides. He could feel her sweetness through the fabric, entering his mouth and enchanting his tongue. His tongue swirled around her nipple, his mouth still securely latched. It hardened against the foreign intrusion, its nerve endings quivering with newfound passion.

With a wicked grin, Pickles lifted his face to look back up at Layla. Her mouth was slightly open, panting. Her face was flushed and she squirmed, yearning for something more, something unknown. Pickles knew what she wanted, and he had every intention of fulfilling that need.

She squirmed in frustration as Pickles slowly placed kisses on her soft belly. Layla was still shy and naïve, complete opposite to dream Layla, but Pickles knew that he could make that flame burn deep inside her. He was sure of it.

Pickles finished his mouth's trail right below her belly button, where her swim bottoms began. He made sure Layla was watching as he slowly brought his hand to where his mouth had left off. Her eyes widened, watching, waiting. Pickles' hand hovered over her, slowly lowering to meet her core. With his thumb, he placed pressure onto the wet fabric, feeling her heated nub shudder beneath his hot touch.

"Pickles!" Layla gasped, raising herself up on her elbows.

"Shhh, relax. It's ok, I got ya." Pickles gently placed a hand on Layla's shoulders, lowering her back down onto the bed. Her head craned forward to watch his movements. He liked how her breasts, perky from his former advances, heaved up and down in response to his actions, his raw need.

Pickles began to push his thumb a little firmer onto her sensitive nub. He was sure Layla didn't realize the erotic purrs that were escaping her parted lips. He continued his exploration, now softly running his fingers up and down her covered sex.

He ceased when Layla squirmed and quickly looked up at her.

"It tickles." She shyly smiled.

With a devilish smirk, Pickles regarded her. "Sensitive, eh?"

With both hands, Pickles looped his fingers beneath the swimsuit's band. With a look towards Layla, he knew it was ok. Slowly, he pulled the damp fabric down past her thighs, over her knees, and finally off her feet. He discarded the material on the floor beneath them.

Layla had closed her legs, her shy smile still visible. Her pouty lips were begging him to show her more.

"Don't be embarrassed." Pickles gave a reassuring smile.

With both hands, he slowly opened her and gazed down upon her heated core.

"Little Layla…my Layla…" Layla was sure Pickles hadn't realized he uttered these words out loud as he brought a shaking hand back down to her sex.

He ran his fingers once more up and down her tender flesh. The dark tresses of hair brushed against his knuckles. Layla shivered, feeling his calloused fingers carefully brush against her most sensitive region.

"You're wet." Pickles gave a crooked smirked, lust gleaming within his dark eyes.

"Is that bad?" Layla asked with concern.

Pickles seemed lost in his own thoughts, entranced within her. "No. No, it's a good thing."

With his thumb and pointer finger, he gently spread her pink flesh open. It glistened in the dim light of his room, beckoning him. With his other hand, he lightly touched her swollen nub with one finger.

Layla's hips bucked slightly in response. With glassy eyes, she watched Pickles' movements with utter fascination, watching him control her body with simple caresses. Their eyes met and a wicked grin spread across Pickles' face.

"Do you know what this is?" Pickles lightly brushed the swollen nub again.

This time a low moan escaped Layla's lips. "No." she panted.

"Your clit." Pickles wicked grin widened with lust, "It's swollen. And you know what that means?"

Layla, now utterly at the mercy of Pickles' touch, could only shake her head no.

"It means it wants some attention."

With that, Pickles lowered his head and placed his mouth over her clit and began to suck. Layla cried out in ecstasy, grabbing hold of his head, tugging absent-mindedly on his red dreadlocks. The feeling was incredible. Thousands of nerve endings seemed to be shooting electricity into her mind, sending signals of utmost pleasure throughout her entire body. Instinct seemed to take over, and Layla surprised herself as she rocked her hips into Pickles' mouth. Pickles released his suction and began to lap lustfully at her tender flesh.

He would use long strokes of his tongue, all the way up and then all the way down. Then he would quicken his pace with short and direct attention on solely her clit. He used his thumb and pointer finger to open her flesh up more, un-hooding her tender nub and leaving it defenseless against his mouth's desires. A strange sensation was building up inside of Layla, like a pent-up thunderstorm yearning to be released into the heavens and explode into its furious majesty.

Pickles could feel Layla trembling, her hold tightening on his hair. He knew that she was nearing her release. He felt pride and possessiveness in being the first and only man to see Layla in her true beauty, to be the first to touch and taste her so intimately. A raw need filled Pickles to help Layla reach her high, driving her through and over the edge. She was his obsession, and now she was allowing him to take her places she'd never even dreamed of before. With dominating force, Pickles quickened his advances on Layla's swollen clit, licking faster and sucking harder.

With his other hand, Pickles brought his middle finger towards her core's opening. Layla could feel his calloused finger gently circling her opening while he continued to lap at her swollen flesh. More nerve endings began to buzz in excitement to this new intrusion. A knot was forming in her stomach. Layla didn't know how, but somehow she knew that knot would find release soon with Pickles' help. Just…a little…further…

Pickles' finger slowly glided into her core, aided by her slickness. Pickles latched onto Layla's swollen nub one last time, sucking her while sliding his finger in and out of her heat.

Layla shuddered against his hand and mouth, shivering with a foreign sensation. Fire was seeping through her veins, her nerves, her entire body. Her back arched while erotic moans escaped her lips as she clutched onto the bed sheets above her head for dear life. A fast and rhythmic pulse was coursing through her core, electrified by Pickles' tongue and finger.

Pickles could feel Layla orgasm. The nub still trapped within his mouth trembled in unison with the trembling of her body. Her core tightened and pulsed against his finger; her orgasmic juices running to coat his hand. He could taste her sweetness against his tongue, relishing in its flavor. Her cries of passion were like music to his ears, enveloping him in pride that he, and only he, was able to take Layla past the point of pleasure.

He finally released his hold on Layla once her body calmed. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he sat up on his knees. Looking down, Pickles was sure he had never before seen a more beautiful site. Layla, her hair now free and splayed over the sheets, was gazing back up at Pickles. With eyes half mast, she seemed in her own world, post orgasm, and in utter contentment. Her chest was beginning to slowly rise up and down as her breathing came back to normal. Layla glistened like a goddess, her body shimmering from a sweat. Pickles could've sat and watched her for an eternity, the beautiful and well sated Layla, _his_ Layla.

After a few moments had passed, Layla finally caught her breath. "Was that sex?"

He smirked down at Layla. Lowering himself, he placed a soft kiss on her lips.

"No. That was just the appetizer."


	7. Sweet Suffocation

**Hello all my wonderful readers! Hope the story is going to your liking so far. Don't be shy to let me know your honest thoughts, opinions, suggestions. They inspire and help me to continue. With that said, don't own Dethklok or Metalocalypse. And hope you enjoy!**

**Pat**

One would've thought that by now headaches were only reserved for the inexperienced drinkers. But Pickles couldn't help but groan as a dull ache spread across his head, waking him from a deep sleep. He shifted around, feeling somewhat warmer than usual. As he nestled his prickly face into his pillow, he felt a slight stir beneath him. Pickles suddenly registered skin beneath him, foreign skin.

Pickles brought his head up to see the nameless face of whatever groupie that had followed him back last night. His eyes squinted, still registering to the dim light of his bedroom. He could hear the groupie let out a soft sigh, slowly stirring as she also began to wake up.

Her eyes fluttered open and looked around in confusion until they landed on Pickles. His green eyes grew brighter as they locked stares. Memories from the previous evening came rushing back like a ton of bricks to Pickles. Clearly the same was happening to his presumed groupie, as Layla's eyes also shot open in surprise.

_Last night…_Pickles thought. _She came back with me and had let me touch her..._

Pickles knew he had more than merely touched Layla. He had explored and awakened her body to all the pleasure he was humanly capable of giving her.

_Well, almost all the pleasure. _Pickles inwardly grinned. _We must've passed out after…_

Pickles' train of thought ended, hearing and watching his whispered name leaving Layla's pink lips. They were still slightly swollen from his mouth's previous aggressive advances.

"Pickles…" she said again, "It's kinda hard to breath."

With an aching head, Pickles was slow to register what Layla had said.

"Oh…" he began slowly, still not quite comprehending her words.

Taking in their situation, he noticed that he had fallen asleep on his stomach while she was on her back. Their bodies were pushed together, their legs entangled, his arms wrapped around her waist snuggly. His head had been resting on her breast the whole night.

Layla's back arched slightly as Pickles quickly pulled his arms out from around her waist. He pushed himself up and rolled to her side. Pickles suddenly felt cold and incomplete, no longer nestled against Layla's body. He certainly felt the loss of her breast against his face.

"Sorry." Pickles drawled out in his yooper accent, "I didn't mean to suffocate ya."

Layla smiled softly. Though the light was still dim, Pickles could see a faint blush spreading across her cheeks. Layla remained on her back as she gazed back at the drummer, lying on his side with his head resting against a bent arm. The air between them began to grow slightly uncomfortable.

_Say something, ya douchebag,_ he thought to himself.

And in Pickles fashion, he let the only logical response slip from his lips, "How'd ya sleep?"

Pickles inwardly slapped himself across the face as a shocked expression spread across Layla's gaze. But soon her eyes softened and she laughed. It was a soft sound that brought a smile across Pickles face. All too soon Layla ceased her giggles and brought a blushing gaze back to Pickles.

Pickles had a smirk across his face. Layla's blush deepened, remembering where he had placed his lips the night before. She bit her bottom lip, recalling his mouth wet from her sex.

"Did we…?" Layla slowly began.

"Nah." Pickles' smirk widened, "We must've had a lil too much last night and passed out."

"Oh…Well, I still had a lot of fun." Layla's timid smile and soft eyes made Pickles' puff up in pride. It was a night he would never forget.

"I did, too. Maybe, I mean, if ya wanna, we could continue where we left off…?"

Pickles could feel himself growing harder the more he gazed into Layla's eyes. Her lower half was unfortunately covered by the sheets, but her breasts were visible, still straining against the white top of her swimsuit. Absently mindedly, Pickles trailed his tongue across his lips, remembering the taste and feel of her nipples against his open mouth. Her dark hair was tangled, spread across his bed. Her rosy cheeks and red lips beckoned him to taste her again. His cock twitched uncomfortably against the swim trunks he still had on. He wanted more of her. He wanted her guttural moans from the night before to slip through his ears once more. He wanted her spread for him, wet and wanting, panting his name sweetly before she cried out in ecstasy.

With a nervous smile, Layla began, "I-"

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

"Hey Pickle! Yous in theres?" Toki's voice echoed from the other side of Pickles' door.

Layla and Pickles' eyes widened in unison at the sudden sound of the guitarist's voice. Before Layla had a chance to react or even think, Pickles grabbed the sheet that covered her and flung them both on the other side of the bed. She let out a small cry in surprise.

Pickles leapt off his bed towards the door, landing flat on his face. _Mother douchebag!_ Struggling to stand and regain composure, he unlocked his door and opened it an inch.

"Toki, dude, what time is it?" Pickles squinted into the lighted hallway. He tried to sound calm, complete opposite to his heart pounding within his chest.

Toki pushed the door open, stepping inside. Pickles quickly jumped back, ceasing the guitarist from entering any further.

"Wowee Pickle, whats is wrong withs you today?"

"Nothin'. Just, ya know, want my privacy is all." Pickles stuttered in response. He did not want Toki to find a half clothed Layla wrapped in his sheets. That was something for his eyes alone.

Toki looked at the visible side of Pickles' bed. "You has a girls in heres or something? Hey, those looks like the swimsuits that Layla has on last nights."

Pickles turned to follow Toki's gaze. Discarded from the night before lay Layla's white swimsuit bottoms with the gold accents. Pickles fingers twitched, recalling the feel of the soft skin of her thighs as he slowly peeled them off her. But panic soon overtook the drummer's wandering thoughts.

"No, dude! It's just some groupie!" he snapped back at a surprised Toki. Toki's face was twisted in confusion as he now gazed down at Pickles still wearing his swimsuit. Pickles shifted uncomfortably, hoping Toki hadn't noticed his half chub. Before he had a chance to comment, Pickles snapped Toki back from his thoughts. "Now why the fuck you gotta wake me up so goddamn early?"

Toki seemed to forget all about the white swimsuit bottoms. "I went to go sees Layla but it looking likes she never wents to beds last nights."

"Well, why the hell would you think to look here?" Pickles hoped to all that was evil that Toki could not pick up on the guilty falter within his voice.

"Yous were with hers last. I just thoughts that maybes you woulds know where Laylas is at?"

"Well she ain't here." Pickles brow slightly furrowed, a spark igniting in his chest. _Why the fuck does Toki care where Layla's at? It's none of his damn business._ Toki was beginning to piss the drummer off in a bad way. His fingers now twitched to grab hold of the guitarist's neck and shake him senseless.

Pickles continued, "She's just probably off doing girl stuff or whatever. Now get outta my room so I can go back to sleep."

As Toki was shoved back into the hallway, he turned as if to say something else, but by then Pickles had slammed his door shut. He turned the lock slowly, listening to the retreating footsteps in the hallway.

Turning back around, Pickles walked towards his bed. Bending down, he grasped the white swimsuit firmly in his hand. He looked at it thoughtfully, remembering all that it signified for him and for Layla.

His head shot up at the sound of Layla clearing her throat. She was standing on the other side of the bed, thankfully invisible from the doorway, clutching the sheets around her midsection.

During Pickles and Toki's brief conversation, her heart had been hammering in her chest. Layla had feared that they could hear the violent beating of her heart. Only when she heard the door shut and lock did she realize that she was gripping onto the sheets. She quickly released her white knuckle hold, flexing her hands in relief.

"Ah, that was close." Pickles nervously laughed, shifting his feet around.

Layla merely gave another shy smile. "Pickles, could you, ah…" She looked down at Pickles hand.

Following her gaze, Pickles stuttered in awkward realization, "Oh, ah ya. Here." He tossed the swim bottoms across the bed. Layla caught them one handed.

"Could I have a moment?" she cleared her throat.

"Oh ya. Right." Pickles had to literally tear his gaze away from the scantily clad Layla and turn around. "Just let me know when you're done, you know, gettin' dressed and stuff."

Pickles squeezed his sweaty hands into fists, fighting the urge to turn around. He could hear the rustle of the sheets as they were dropped on the floor, the soft swish of fabric against skin. It seemed like an eternity before he felt a soft touch against his back. Turing around a little too eagerly, Pickles looked down to see Layla standing before him.

Her dark hair still hung loosely around her face and down her back and shoulders, but the white bikini was once again in place. Pickles reached out his hands and rested them against her hips. Layla shuddered beneath his fingertips, looking up into Pickles' glowing green eyes. Her eyes traveled to his beard, which had tickled her awake this morning. She noticed he had faint freckles across his shoulders. Her eyes traveled even lower, following a patch of red hair that trailed down and disappeared beneath his swim trunks. Though Pickles had a slight belly from all the booze he drank, Layla could still see the sharp v that was etched below his belly button and by his hips.

A firm hand grasped Layla's chin, pulling her face back up towards Pickles. His eyes, now at half mast, had grown dark. His signature crooked grin spread across his face. Layla could feel her pulse start to race again at the deep and sultry sound of his voice.

"Now where were we?..."

"I should probably go." Layla did not recognize her voice, "Toki's right. I better get to my room. My head hurts anyway. And I should probably take a shower."

Layla had stepped back from Pickles, his hands dropping to his sides. A darker look had passed across his face at the mention of Toki's name. She had almost made it to his door when a firm grasp spun her around and pinned her against the cold, stone wall. With his knee, Pickles spread Layla's legs apart and pushed his re-hardening groin against Layla. To his enjoyment, he was sure she did not notice how she moaned in pleasure as his hips slightly rocked against hers. One hand firmly grasped onto her waist while the other snaked behind her neck, pulling her hair back so that her face looked up towards the drummer.

Her mouth had parted in slight shock. Pickles had quickly taken this opportunity to capture her lips in a deep kiss. With shining green eyes still at half mast, Pickles watched as Layla's own eyes closed in surrender. She let out a whimper of pleasure as his tongue snaked inside of her mouth, circling around her own. All too soon, Pickles reluctantly broke the kiss. Leaning his forehead against Layla's, he watched with pride as her eyes slowly fluttered open. Gazing back, she seemed to be contemplating something as she nibbled on her bottom lip. Pickles resisted the urge to replace her teeth with his own.

"Could we…" Layla's voice was soft, merely a whisper, "Could we do this, again, sometime?"

Pickles wicked grin flashed across his face before he buried himself in her neck. Layla laughed, wrapping her arms around Pickles' neck. She could feel him purr against her skin, placing light kisses and licks across the tender flesh. Pickles rested his cheek against Layla's, relishing the sound of her laugh and the feel of her skin beneath his fingertips. He brought his lips to Layla's once more, placing a lingering peck across the luscious flesh.

Smiling down at his Layla, he brought his hand to brush her dark hair away from her face.

"We'll hang out real soon, k?" Pickles stretched out "real" in his Wisconsin accent.

"K." Layla smiled back at Pickles.

It seemed to take all the effort the drummer possessed, but he managed to release Layla from his hold. She flashed him one more sweet smile before exiting his room and hurrying back to her own. Letting out a long sigh, Pickles stretched his arms above his head before linking them behind his head. Walking towards his bed, he gazed down at the rumpled sheets. A sly smile spread across his face as he noticed a light stain on his bed. It was a stain he never wanted to go away.

_I'll be seeing you real soon…_

**I'll be the first to admit that this was not my best chapter. However, I needed to somehow develop the story so it's not just filled with nonstop smut…unless that's what you prefer? :) Please review with your thoughts! Thanks!**


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